When Two Worlds Collide
by Ember1313
Summary: When a serial killer hits Portland Nick must work with the FBI to stop the mad man. But is there something more sinister going on right in front of him?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer:

I own nothing related to or affiliated with NBC or Grimm Characters are not mine; they are merely being borrowed.

AN:

So this little nugget has been dancing around in my head since the start of the first season. I don't watch much TV but when I do I ted to play what if in my head. This fic steams from one of those what ifs.

This story is set during the summer after the first season. All of that happened with two exceptions. The Lady in Black wasn't Nick mother. Nick killed Akira Kimura and was cleared of any wrong doing. Juliette was saved by Monroe and Rosalee. She doesn't remember Nick telling her about the Grimms and Wesen.

That should be it. A lot of things in this fic is purposely left unsaid but if you have questions I'd be happy to hear them. I look forward to your thoughts on this story.

~Kelly~

PS

Thanks to my betas for taking the time to look this fic over.

* * *

**_When Two Worlds Collide_******

Chapter One

Detective Nick Burkhardt was having the worst week ever. His normal detective and Grimm duties would be enough to send most people over the edge. However, he thought he was coping quite well. Even with the problems he and Juliette were having lately.

That was until this latest string of murders.

Hikers had stumbled upon a badly decomposed body. That fact, alone, certainly wasn't an uncommon occurrence in Portland. That was, until one body turned into two and then four. The count was now up to eight.

Eight.

Eight dead bodies in two months. And the worst part, at least for Nick, was the fact he knew there were more. The late nights and long hours were starting to wear on the entire department. What they all needed was a long vacation. Only that wasn't going to happen, especially since they had no leads in such a major case.

Nick leaned over his desk studying yet another case file. His eyes were starting to water from reading so much but there wasn't much he could do about it.

He glanced over at his partner, Hank Griffin. The man didn't look much better than he felt. Of course since he felt like he'd battled a bunch of Reapers that wasn't saying much.

His eyes were starting to glaze over when Sergeant Wu approached their desks. He, as usual, had several files in his hands.

"The captain wants to you both in his office," Wu told the two detectives sympathetically. Truth was even the, normally, cool headed captain was starting to crack over this particular case.

Sharing a look the two men reluctantly headed to the captain's office. This was the second time today that Renard had called them in. Neither detective was looking forward to telling the man they'd made no progress.

The Captain was seated at his desk looking the closest Nick had ever seen to frustrated. There were also two men, both wearing suits, that he'd never seen before. Apparently, the Captain was having a meeting of some kind. He was immediately curious as to what they were doing in the captain's office.

"You wanted to see us sir," Nick asked stepping further into the crowded office. There was no place to sit so he chose to lean against the door.

"Agents Adams and Taylor these are the two detectives I was telling you about," Renard introduced the everyone. He almost smiled at the sight of the men sizing each other up. Almost. This case was too important... too public for infighting. "They're here about your case."

"No offense," Hank said unapologetically before turning to his boss, "but, Captain, we don't need the FBI poking around our case."

"Our case," the older of the two men insisted. It was clear to Nick that the man had no intention of simply walking away. Too bad he felt the exact same way.

"Excuse me?"

"This is, technically, our case."

"Is that so," the detective challenged unwilling to simply hand over weeks of hard work.

"We've been working a similar case for over three years, now," the other interjected hoping to smooth things over a bit. He'd rather have the detective working for them instead of fighting.

"And you think our cases are related?"

"We think so," Taylor added, "of course, the condition of the bodies..."

"Makes knowing impossible," Nick finished for him. To be honest, the bodies were barely identifiable.

"Three years is a long time to be working a case like this," Hank needlessly pointed out. The entire room knew that three years was almost an eternity to work on a murder case. It was time the detectives didn't feel they had.

"Well, it took two for us to even connect them."

"Seriously?"

"Five states. Eleven jurisdictions. Not counting Portland."

"Damn," he mumbled shocked by how serious this case was turning out to be. Refusing to cooperate wasn't going to be possible. Especially, if the look the Captain was giving him was anything to go by.

"What I think Detective Griffin is trying to say that we'd be more than happy to work with you," Renard said firmly more to the detective than their guests.

"Captain..."

The tension was broken by a ringing cell phone. "Hello? What? When? I can't believe this. Where's the scene at? Okay someone will be right there."

"Another body," Renard asked the moment the call ended.

"Yes, sir."

"I believe that makes nine," he said quietly before suddenly raising his voice. "I want this guy caught no matter what it takes. Am I making myself clear?" The harsh tone startled all four people in the room. All Hank and Nick could do was nod. "Good, because I expect to updated frequently."

And just like that they were all dismissed. However, their orders were clear work together and find the person responsible or else. Nick and Hank were certain they didn't want to find out what or else was.

"Is he always like that," Taylor asked running a hand through his spiky red hair after they'd exited the office. He'd been yelled at before but they had nothing on Captain Renard. He did not want to be on that man's bad side.

Nick thought about the question for a moment before answering. "Pretty much. Although this case has gotten to us all."

"Hell," Adams cursed shaking his head, "and I thought our supervisor was bad."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Renard watched the four men talking just outside his office. Hopefully, his message had been received. The mayor was already breathing down his neck about the murders. The last thing he needed was his people fighting with the FBI. The press would love to run a story, or several, about that.

Of course, he would never allow that to happen. Nick and Hank were two of his best detectives. The Captain knew they would put the case before everything else. Including their pride.

His cell phone, the one used for personal and not police business, vibrated in his pocket breaking the solemn mood. "Hello?"

"How did the introductions go?"

Renard relaxed slightly at the familiar voice, "About as well as we'd hoped."

"Everyone agreed to cooperate then," a soft chuckle accompanied the question.

"Another body was found," he admitted honestly. There was no need to lie, after all, the person would learn of the body no matter what, "and I believe I was clear."

"Somehow, I don't doubt you."

"Will you be joining them," Renard asked curious how this situation might play out.

"I don't know. Maybe. There's a few leads I need to follow up on here."

"You'll keep me updated?"

"Oui."


	2. Chapter 2

AN:

Hmmm. I wonder who Renard could have been talking to? Any guesses?

~Kelly~**  
**

* * *

**Chapter Two**

The body, or rather what was left of it, had been half buried in the woods of Forest Park. Sticks and small rocks crunched under Nick's feet as they hiked to the crime scene. He could make out the bright yellow evidence markers as they neared the grave.

The scene vaguely reminded Nick of his first post Grimm case. The jogger's body had been spread out not unlike this one. It caused him to wonder if this particular case was Wesen related as well. It could certainly explain the carnage.

Not that it really mattered.

The case had to be solved regardless of who was committing the crimes. Preferably before he and Hank were fired. Nick doubted the Captain would simply allow that to happen. So far, Renard had managed to keep both the press and the Mayor off their backs.

Maybe that was the reason for this sudden need to cooperate with the FBI. Even though it wasn't unusual for agents to try and steal their cases.

Whatever the reason Nick was almost glad they were around. Because, apparently, this killer wasn't going to stop unless they stopped him. Something that was going to be nearly impossible, if they didn't get a lead.

"This remind you of something," Hank asked as they watched the crime scene techs work. They had learned it was better for everyone to stay out of the way.

"The Oster case?"

"Yeah," he agreed with a slight smile. "Though I doubt this case will end like that one."

"As long as this guy's caught, I'm happy."

"True,." the other man admitted reluctantly. Finding a victim alive seemed almost impossible.

"What do you think," Hank asked nodding his head towards the FBI agents. The two men were currently talking to someone from the medical examiner's office ignoring them almost completely. Which to be honest suited the two detectives fine for the moment.

"This case is a lot more serious than we thought, especially if the Captain isn't putting up a fight."

He couldn't argue with his observation. The whole case had been nothing but one unusual event after another. "Makes you wonder what we don't know," Hank wondered aloud his brown eyes still focused on Taylor and Adams.

"Exactly."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX X

Taylor knew the two detectives were watching them. He could feel their curious and slightly hostile stares. Not that he could blame the men. It was difficult to share a case like this. Serial cases tend to become personal very quickly even more than regular murders.

Of course, the brutality of the crimes wasn't helping. These victims were being ripped apart and often left to rot. It was a miracle they'd connected as many crimes as they had. Although it still galled him that Landry was the one who made the initial connection. She and Rogers, his usual partner, had stayed in DC to coordinate any new leads there.

Speaking of the devils, he should probably check in on them. Pulling out his cell Taylor hit the second speed dial. "Rogers," a male voice answered half way through the third ring.

"Your mother know you answer the phone that way," he teased hoping to lighten his mood. Taylor could imagine the look of horror on his partner's face.

"Are you kidding," Rogers choked out obviously trying not to laugh. "I checked the ID first. How are things in Portland? The PPD cooperating?"

"More or less," he said moving further away from the techs. Lowering his voice Taylor continued. "They found another body."

"Shit. This is fucked up man," the younger man exclaimed all trace of humor gone. "We've gotta get some kind of break on this thing."

"I know but this guy's good."

"He's lucky," Rogers snapped back almost immediately.

"Either way he's about ten steps ahead of us."

"Well, it still sucks."

"I take it that means no change on your end?"

"Not yet. The techs are going over some video footage again. Oh and I think Wilson wants to fire us all."

"Nothing new, then. Just like I thought."

"Pretty much,." he grumbled. "You'll keep us updated?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX X

Monroe opened the door and wasn't surprised to find Nick standing there. The detective was practically his only visitor after all. Although he had to admit the man was looking even worse than usual. "You look like hell, man."

"Thanks for kicking me when I'm down Monroe," he said leaning against the door frame.

"No problem," the Blutbad teased heading back to his desk. He had been fixing a clock when Nick arrived. "I heard on the news that you have another body."

"Yeah and to makes things even more interesting the FBI showed up outta nowhere."

Well that was new, Monroe thought. After working with the Grimm for nearly a year this was the first time the FBI had joined a case. It seemed a little suspicious to him. "That can't be a good sign."

"Eh," Nick mumbled collapsing on his couch. "It mostly depends on how you look at it."

"If you say so," Monroe agreed, briefly wondering if the younger man had finally lost his mind. "Brew?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Monroe got up and headed to the kitchen. Grabbing two beers from the fridge he handed one to Nick. Taking a closer look at how tired his friend actually was he had to ask, "Don't take this the wrong way but shouldn't you be at home?"

Nick smiled at the question. Which in Monroe's opinion only made him look more pathetic. "Are you trying to kick me out again?"

"Well I have to admit that despite my best efforts you've grown on me."

"Thank you I think. So what's the deal?"

"Juliette? I mean wouldn't you rather be at home with her," Monroe asked instantly regretted the question. If the Grimm's face was anything to go by the answer was no.

"Honestly? I don't know. This case Monroe its eating at me... at all of us."

"I'm sure she understands that."

"She tries to, at least," Nick admitted taking a long drink from his beer. Letting out a sigh he continued. "Things have been to tense between us since my aunt's death. And then she turned down my proposal. I just... things aren't good between us Monroe. We fight all the time and I hate it."

While the news wasn't, well, news to Monroe. It was the first time his friend admitted how bad things were. "I'm sorry Nick. I know things have been rough for the two of you."

"Yeah, well, maybe if I wasn't lying all the time it wouldn't be so bad."

"You telling the truth didn't go so well last time," he pointed out needlessly. Monroe knew neither man would forget that night for a long time. Even if Juliette had. Stupid Hexenbiest.

"I remember. Which is the only reason I'm still lying to her."

Getting the feeling that Nick no longer wanted to talk about his personal life, which was nothing new, he changed the subject by asking, "Any Grimm-ness on this case?"

"Not yet but given the scenes... it's hard to image a human ripping someone to shreds."

"That type of violence does usually suggest wesen. Probably a Blutbad or Skalenzahnen. However you humans are just as capable of that kind of violence."

"I know," he reassured his friend allow Monroe to relax a bit. Even if he was a good guy Nick was still a Grimm. And he had found you just couldn't shut off those instincts. "and I haven't ruled anything out."

"Good policy. You hit the books yet?"

Nick nodded at the question thankfully understanding what he meant. "Several times. Except they're only good to me if I know what I'm looking for."

"True. You know you gotta organize that stuff. I could... maybe help you," Monroe offered trying to sound casual about the whole idea. "Because otherwise it'll never get done."

The younger man quirked an eyebrow and took a moment to consider the question. His response was to ask one of his own. "Isn't there some unwritten rule against that?"

"Probably, I don't know. But look at it this way I'm already helping you."

"You have a point. I just don't want to impose any more than I already have."

Monroe rolled his eyes at the comment. That right there was what made it so hard to dislike their resident Grimm. "Then stopping knocking on my door at 3am."

"No promises," Nick joked reaching for his cell phone. Looking at the ID he sighed. It was, of course, Juliette calling. Brushing aside the guilt and annoyance he answered, "Hey, Juliette, I was just headed home."

"Where are you," Juliette began harshly before softening her voice. "I... I mean I was worried."

"Sorry," Nick replied shifting guiltily and cast a weary look at Monroe. "I stopped off for a drink."

"At Monroe's," she guessed anger bleeding in to her words. The emotion immediately caught Monroe's attention even though he was trying not to listen in.

"Yeah."

"Oh. Should I even bother staying up?"

The younger man let out a frustrated sigh at the question. "I don't want to fight with you."

"Who's fighting Nick? It was just a question."

Another sigh caught the Blutbad's attention. He knew if he looked that Nick would be all Grimmed out over the situation. "I'll be there in twenty," he heard Nick say after a barely a pause.

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye."

"Dude, I had no idea." Monroe said sympathetically before he could stop himself. He almost laughed at the look on his friends face. Clearly Nick hadn't given any thought to being over heard.

"Yeah. And that wasn't even bad," he told the Blutbad reluctantly.

"Let me know if I can help. Seriously."

"I'll do that and thank you for listening."

"I'm still waiting on that gift basket," he joked hoping to get the depressed look off Nick's face. When the Grimm laughed Monroe knew it worked.

"I'll tell Bud to send the next hundred or so to you," Nick teased back already on his way out the door.

"One gift basket Nick not a hundred," he shouted back despite knowing the it wouldn't do any good.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX X

Nick parked his truck and killed the engine. Part of him didn't want to be home. This was just another place where he had to lie. Not that it was Juliette's fault he couldn't be honest. She had no idea about his other life. The other world that was around her.

He knew he could give another shot at being honest. It was what he should do. However the memory of her calling him crazy was still fresh in his mind. Thanks to Adeline's cat she didn't remember anything. If only he could forget that stormy night.


	3. Chapter 3

AN:

This chapter has a lot of stuff going on. Including a small scene with our killer. No real answers yet only some more questions.

~Kelly~

* * *

**Chapter Three**

"Long night," Hank asked when Nick collapsed at his desk. Judging from the look his partner was giving him Nick must look at least as bad as he felt. Probably worse.

"Something like that," Nick replied opening a case file and pretending to read. "Juliette and I had a fight," he admitted after a couple of moments.

Hank wished he could say he was surprised. However after three divorces he'd learned that work could ruin any relationship. "About the case?"

"Pretty much. She hates how much time it's taking up."

"I'm sorry man. I know how that sucks," he said sincerely, leaning back in his chair. Unfortunately, Hank had no words of advice for his friend.

"Yeah. I just wish I knew how to fix things," Nick mumbled frustrated and still angry. Not just with the case or even Juliette but himself.

"As much as I hate to say it... sometimes these things can't be fixed."

"You're not helping Hank," he pointed out needlessly. It wasn't unusual for a case, especially one this high profile, to mess with a relationship.

"I'm sure things will get better after we catch this guy."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXX

The M.E. was not happy to see either Hank or Nick later that day. "I'm starting to think you two hate me. Or really like me. I haven't decided which."

"You let us know when you do," Hank teased thankful to be out of the squad room. Nick might not mind hours of research but he was more of an action guy. All this waiting was starting to make him twitchy.

"Whoever is doing this is thorough," she said pulling back the sheet to reveal what was left of the body. "I had a hard time figuring out the cause of death."

This wasn't news to either Nick or Hank. But they also knew the M.E. was good. "But you did figured it out, right?"

"Of course, I did."

"Let me guess strangulation," Adams offered easily from the doorway.

"You got it in one."

"These are the FBI agents helping on the case," Nick told the doctor. He had a feeling they'd all be well acquainted by the end of this case.

"Well this is new," she said slightly surprised that the FBI had suddenly taken an interest in this case. "I take it you're not surprised by the COD."

Taylor shook his head at the question. "No, about half the bodies have strangulation as the cause."

"At least our guy's consistent."

"Yeah. There's that," Hank muttered not sure if that fact was a good thing or not. It didn't really help them catch the guy just prosecute him later.

"Let me show you what else I found."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXX

Renard sat comfortably across from the Mayor. The Fuchsbau was understandably anxious since the discovery of yet another body. Even he was concerned by this new case. However, that didn't give the Mayor the right to give him orders. That was not how things were done in his canton.

Apparently, the other man had forgotten how things work. Maybe a lesson on who was really in charge was in order. Of course, any lesson would have to wait until this murder was caught.

"How can you have no leads," the Mayor demanded to know, once again. It had been the same question William had been asking for weeks. Too bad Renard had no information for the man.

"It seems this guy has been killing for a number of years. In that time he's become not only smart, but careful too," Renard reminded the man regretfully. He was well aware that this case was drawing too much attention.

"I heard about the two FBI agents showing up. It's not going to be a problem is it?"

"My detectives have been instructed to cooperate."

"And will the Grimm? Cooperate, I mean," William asked not bothering to hide his disdain for Nick. Another issue between the two men.

"Detective Burkhardt has done nothing to violate the law or even police procedures."

The Fuchsbau shook his head at the statement. Apparently, that fact had little effect on the man. "He is a Grimm, Renard, isn't that enough?"

"I understand your concern, especially given who his aunt was, but no. Nick Burkhardt is a good detective... a good man. He isn't hunting Wesen for fun. Whatever he does it's inside the law."

"For now. You know it won't last. He's going to turn out like every other Grimm, a blood thirsty killer."

The room immediately grew silent. William immediately knew he had gone too far with his concern over Detective Burkhardt. This belief was confirmed when Renard spoke, "I believe this conversation is over."

"Renard... sir... I didn't mean..."

"But you did," he said standing, effectively ending their conversation. Heading for the door Renard paused halfway across the room. Clearly they needed to get at least one thing worked out before he left. "I will let you know when we've made progress. Do not bother me again."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXX

"I'm not sure if that was helpful or not," Hank admitted, collapsing at his desk. This day felt like it would never end. Thankfully, the FBI had not joined them back at the station.

"We knew more than before."

"Nothing that really helps. This guy is a ghost, Nick."

Nick took a moment to think back on the last few days. He could only think of one possible new source of information. "You think they're holding out on us," he asked referring to Taylor and Adams.

"Probably. They've had this case a long time not to have nothing."

Before Nick could comment the Captain stormed through the squad room. He was obviously not in a good mood. "The Captain looks..."

"Pissed," Hank supplied when his partner trailed off.

"I was gonna say scary but pissed workS," he said easily agreeing with Hank's assessment. "Guess we know how the meeting with the Mayor went."

"Yeah, not well. I haven't seen him this mad since he was attacked awhile back."

"You guys might want to hide," Sargent Wu warned the two detectives while handing Nick two files. "Word is the Captain stormed out of the Mayor's office."

"Wanna canvas the last scene again?"

"You think that's far enough away?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXX

The office had gone silent when Renard walked in. Clearly his men could sense his anger. Although anger wasn't the correct word, well not entirely. He was more frustrated than angry at this point. Shedding his jacket and loosening his tie Renard sat down.

He knew, logically, that the Mayor meant well. Like him, the other man wanted to protect the people of Portland. Both human and Wesen. William, he hoped, was simply stressed by this new case.

Casting a glance to the squad room Renard was satisfied things appeared to be back to normal or at least what passed for normal around here. Letting out a sigh he pulled opened a drawer. Pulling a cell phone out Renard immediately hit the speed dial.

The phone barely rang once before it was answered. "Hello?"

"How are things going?" Renard asked hoping but not expecting good news.

"Slow," the voice admitted reluctantly, "but I believe that is about to change."

"For the better?"

Renard could almost hear the smile on the other end. Finally, a breakthrough. "Very much so. Your men should be hearing about it soon."

"Good. Excellent."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXX

The forest was dark and quiet as he stalked his prey. Portland was turning out to be a rich hunting ground. Even with the presence of the Grimm he was happy with the location choice.

Nearby a branch snapped alerting him to the Mouse's movement. While not ideal prey they did give a good chase. Their timid nature made running instinctual. Stupid useless creatures.

Another branch snapped this time slightly further away. Now that wouldn't do. He couldn't have an escapee. Their game while fun was about to come to an end.


	4. Chapter 4

AN:

So this chapter doesn't really answer too many questions. Even though someone give Nick a possible lead. I wonder who that could be? ;)

~Kelly~

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Juliette was sitting at the kitchen table when Nick walked in. He was as usual late getting off work. "How long is this gonna go on Nick?"

"This is my job Juliette. I can't control how cases go and you know that."

"I'm not talking about the case I'm talking about you. About us." she told him as he joined her at the table. Even though there was only a few inches between them it felt like miles to Nick. "Something is different between us. At first I thought it was your aunt's death but now... you're keeping something from me."

Nick couldn't exactly argue or deny what she was saying. He was in fact keeping things from her. However those things weren't always a result of the Grimm world. Being a homicide detective played a part too. He didn't want Juliette to know about parts of his job. Hell it gave him nightmares. "What do you want me to say?" he finally asked his gray eyes focused on the table.

"The truth. Whatever that is."

"And I need you to trust me. My job is is to protect people Juliette. That's all I'm trying to do."

Juliette let out a long sigh. Clearly she didn't like what he was saying. Of course they'd been having the same argument for months. "By lying to me."

Nick didn't have a reply to her accusation. He knew Juliette was right about several things. He had changed in the last year and not just because of Marie's death. The Grimm legacy had made him a different person. Hopefully he was a better person for the new knowledge he possessed. Meeting Monroe and the other wesen wasn't something Nick would ever change.

Suddenly his cellphone rang creating even more tension. Nick answered the device without checking the caller id. "Burkhardt."

"Nick it's Monroe."

Looking at Juliette he knew this wasn't a time to chat with his friend. "This isn't a good time."

"I know and I'm sorry but this is important."

"Can't it wait Monroe?"

Monroe made a noise that he could only interpret as a no. "I heard a rumor that my be linked to your case."

"Wait." he said the Blutbad immediately getting his full attention. A rumor wasn't hard evidence but it was something. "Rumor? What rumor?"

"A Skalengeck. Some guys I know they..." the clockmaker trailed off uncomfortably. "Well people know we're friends. Anyways they ran into this Skalengeck a couple nights ago."

"In the forest?" Nick asked trying to piece together what he knew about the lizard like Wesen. Not much came to mind which obviously meant a trip to the trailer.

"No." Monroe immediately snapped. Clearly the Blutbad was offended by his question. "Dude is that were you think we hang out? Haven't you learned anything in the last year?"

"Okay where was this run in at?"

"The Blue Moon. Remember that place?" Monroe asked immediately reminding Nick of the Ziegevölk case. Back when Monroe barely tolerated him. And now they were best friends.

"Yeah I remember."

"Well apparently this guy was starting all kinds of trouble. He started a couple of fights before getting tossed out."

"None of that makes him my suspect."

"I know. But listen this guy was acting strange even for a Skalengeck. You know what I'm saying?"

"Not really Monroe." he muttered getting a little annoyed despite knowing that Monroe was only trying to help. What he needed was a vacation.

"I'm not some Grimm Encyclopedia." the older man reminded him good naturedly. Even though they both knew where Nick got most of his information from. "You gotta read those books man."

"I'll do just that," Nick promised his eyes meet Juliette's. Leaving tonight wasn't an option. It would only make things between them worse. "in the morning."

"In the... you're at home with Juliette."

"Yeah."

Thankfully Monroe seemed to understand. "Tomorrow it is then."

"Thanks for the tip Monroe."

"Any time."

"This is exactly what I mean Nick. How is it Monroe knows about your case and I don't."

"It's complicated Juliette."

"Complicated?" she scoffed getting up from the table. Clearly Monroe's phone call had made things worse. "I'm so sick of you saying that."

"I'm sorry. I know things between us aren't great."

"That's putting it mildly don't you think."

"I you're angry and hurt and I can't argue with your reasons." he admitted honestly probably surprising Juliette. "But this isn't just some job to me Juliette. This is part of who I am. I know I've changed but so have you. All we seem to do is fight lately."

"I don't like fighting with you."

"Me either."

Juliette leaned against the sink wrapping her arms around herself. "So how do we fix this?" she asked softly.

The question didn't surprise Nick. He only wish he had answer for her. "I wish I knew."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXX

The next morning Nick was almost happy to see the FBI. It meant Hank couldn't ask him any questions. From the look his partner was shooting him Nick must look worst than he felt. Great. That was all he needed. More people asking him questions he couldn't answer.

"So what's all this about?" Adams asked gripping a up of coffee. After a week he was just getting used to the time change.

"A got a lead. Well sort of." Nick told the men settling in his desk chair.

"Sort of? That doesn't make an sense man." Hank told his partner honestly.

"Yeah... someone called me with a tip. A... guy fitting our profile has been starting trouble."

"That's it?"

"For now. I'm gonna talk to my guy again later today."

"You know," Hank said leaning back in his chair. "since this is your lead you get to tell the Captain."

"That's messed up man."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXX

"When you said news I didn't think it would come from a Blutbad." Renard said the moment the phone stopped ringing. Nick had come into his office earlier that day with a lead. He finally got Monroe's name from the other man.

A soft chuckle followed his comment. "So Detective Burkhardt is getting outside help. I was starting to wonder."

"This lead didn't come from you then?" he asked surprised by the news. Renard figured the lead had been through his contact.

"No," they admitted after a brief pause. "although it corroborates what we have here. It should be arriving first thing tomorrow."

This was news to Renard. He hadn't heard of anything coming into Portland. He hated surprises even if he did have an idea what it might be. "Then I guess I have something to look forward to."


	5. Chapter 5

N:

Hehe. At some point I really have to stop adding more questions to this fic. ;)

~Kelly~

* * *

**Chapter Five **

Nick was, of course, running late. It was starting to become a habit with him. Being late at home was one thing, being late for work well that was another. Captain Renard was angry enough without him making it worse. Maybe he wouldn't notice.

Ha! In Nick's opinion that wasn't likely. The Captain knew practically everything that went on at the station. Practically. So far, Nick had managed to keep a huge secret from Renard.

Entering the squad room he was surprised to see two people around his age leaning on his desk. Were these the friends Monroe had alluded to? Somehow, Nick doubted that was the case. Especially given how Adams and Taylor were interacting with them.

So, who were they? There was of course only one way to find out.

"Look who finally showed up," Hank teased looking up from his computer. It was clear to Nick his partner wasn't happy with whatever was going on.

"Sorry, man," he apologized, "Long night." This was, of course, true. Just not the way Hank thought. He had spent most of the night in Aunt Marie's old trailer researching the lead Monroe gave him. Nick hadn't found out much more than he already knew. Skalengeck were violent and dangerous, but only when pushed. Truth was, they rarely caused the kind of destruction they were investigating. It had Nick thinking that maybe they were looking in the wrong direction.

"Uh huh," the other man mumbled with a smirk. "You missed meeting our guests."

"I can see that."

"These are Special Agents Landry and Rogers. Apparently, they're here to help."

"Apparently," The new male agent asked sounding offended. "I don't think they're happy to see us, Chloe."

"Hmm... I think you're right"

"Stop being brats," Adams scolded the two younger agents with a laugh. "I thought the two of you were staying in DC?"

"Surprise," Chloe said casually. "Maybe we should go."

"That is a great idea," Rogers immediately agreed, "I mean, clearly we're not wanted."

"Clearly," Taylor agreed much to Nick's surprise.

"This isn't some game," Hank snapped at the FBI agents.

The tension radiating though the room took on a life of its own. It was thick and nearly suffocating for the few seconds it lasted. Almost.

Chloe tugged on Deacon's arm, "Let's just go. We've got that sketch to get moving on."

"What sketch!"

"Deacon come on," Chloe gives his arm another tug.

Hank reached out and grabed her arm, "I said what sketch?"

Chloe tried to hide the wince but not fast enough.

"GET YOUR HANDs OFF HER!" Deacon pushed Hank's shoulder spinning him away from Chloe. "What the hell is wrong with you!"

Hank quickly pushed Deacon away from him and turned back to Chloe

Deacon grabbed his shoulder and spun him around, "What the hell do you think you're doing, you always manhandle women to get what you want?"

"NO! I don't!" Hank rounded on him, "BUT," he pushed Deacon off him, "I don't keep things from my partners either!"

"WE are not partners!"

"So, we're NOT working on the same case? We're NOT supposed to be solving this thing! GREAT! Someone should have told us!"

"Is there a problem," Renard asked pulling the two men apart.

Rogers immediately reacted to the question. His hand clenched into fists and his dark head lowered. Nick was surprised by the show of what appeared to be submission. Surely the Captain's reputation wasn't that well known. "No, sir."

"Hank?"

"No, Captain."

"I think we all just got a little..." Chloe trailed off taking a moment to find the right word, "excited about a suspect sketch."

"You guys have a suspect?"

Rogers shrugged at the question. "Well we have a sketch," he clarified as Chloe passed copies around.

"Maybe someone should explain exactly what's going on," Renard said slowly starting to lose a grip on his temper. This wasn't what he expected when he thought package. Even if it was finally some sort of progress in this case.

"About six months ago a girl stumbled out of the George Washington National Forest. She's was pretty much dead."

"Which is probably why she fell into a coma," Taylor pointed out rummaging through the files they'd brought along.

"But she's awake now?"

"Three days ago." Rogers confirmed quickly, "Course no one really expected her to live but Chloe."

"Why is that?"

Apparently Agent Laundry thought the question was ridiculous. Because the young woman rolled her eyes and huffed before answering it. "You don't hike miles through the forest with two broken legs to die in a hospital."

"She makes a good point," Hank admitted reluctantly while looking at the sketch. Nothing about their suspect stood out in any way. He could be almost anyone. It didn't solve the case but it did give them hope. "What now?"

"I don't know about anyone else," Rogers said hand tucked inside his jacket pockets, "but I wanna get a look at some of those crime scenes."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Nick's truck was deathly silent as they headed towards the latest crime scene. He had volunteered to show Rogers around. There was something... a quick flash while he was fighting with Hank that prompted this trip around Portland. "So..." he finally started after several minutes of tense silence, "what are you?"

"Seriously? Why me," the other man grumbled running a hand through his hair. After taking a long look at the detective beside him he answered the question with one of his own. "How new at this are you?"

"Not quite a year."

Deacon nearly laughed at the Grimm's tone. Oh, there had been no doubt exactly what Nick was the moment they landed. All of Portland was talking about the new Grimm. "That would explain why I don't feel the need to shoot you."

"I get that a lot."

"Well most Grimms shoot first and rarely ask questions."

"I'm not most Grimm," Nick defended slightly offended by the other man's attitude.

"I suppose not. Considering," Deacon said a slight smirk on his face.

Something about that statement didn't sit well with Nick. "Considering what," he demanded to know.

"Katzetier," was the answer Nick received but wasn't the one he expected.

"You lost me," he admitted pulling into the parking lot. The crime scene was still a bit of a hike but nothing they couldn't handle from here.

"Somehow I'm not surprised," Deacon said scanning the area before stepping out of Nick's truck. "Katzetier. It's what I am. Loosely translated it means cat beast. Not all that dissimilar to your Blutbaden friend."

"How do you know about Monroe?"

"I can smell him and the Fuchsbau woman."

"Huh," Nick muttered not really sure what to say. He hadn't given any thought to anyone sensing Rosalee and Monroe. Although their help wasn't exactly a secret. Half of the Wesen in Portland knew about them. This... agent however was a total stranger. A trip to the trailer was definitely in order. Until then Nick could only hope this guy appeared to be the way he did at the momen.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

After their little scuffle the precinct had mostly cleared out. Besides Sargent Wu and the Captain it was only him and Agent Laundry. Hank felt horrible about the scene earlier. He didn't typically grab women, even suspects. This case, however, had them all acting like other people. "You don't wanna see the crime scenes?"

She shook her head, light brown hair immediately flying everywhere. "Nah! I'm not really an outdoor kinda girl."

"Oh," he said settling back in his chair for a moment. "Look about earlier..."

"It's fine really. We're all running on fumes and instincts at this point."

"Yeah, I guess so," he said focusing his attention back onto the new files. Well, not new exactly. Most of them dated back several years. However, it was easy to see the pattern once you were looking for it. Hank knew their killer wasn't going to stop until they made him. "So two years?"

"It's so embarrassing. More for Deacon and Adams. I usually work cold cases so two years isn't all that much."

"I guess not."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

A gentle wind rocked the trailer as Nick poured over the books in front of him. Before they headed back to the station Agent Rogers... Deacon handed him a second sketch. This one was clearly of a Wesen. The new information wasn't totally unexpected given the state of the victims.

But the sketch posed more questions than it answered. Even after Deacon filled him in on their witness, Ashley James. Apparently the young woman was a Blutbad. If nothing else it explained how the young woman survived in the woods.

It also blew Monroe's theory to hell. Just Nick's stupid luck, too.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

By rule the Vintage Plaza was nicer than federal agents usually stayed at. However the hotel was practically letting them stay there for free. Something that Adams and Taylor found odd but chose not to comment on. And certainly it was no reason to turn down a very nice hotel.

Thankfully, the hotel had also given them a suite instead of two rooms. Another odd fact the men decided to ignore. For the moment Adams was happy with the arrangements. It meant they could keep a close eye on Deacon and Chloe. The two younger agents had a way of finding trouble that was seriously annoying.

Entering the living area of the suite no one was surprised at the mess. It was covered in not only files related to the case but take out containers. Apparently, the two senior agents hadn't spent much time cleaning. A fact that wasn't surprising to either Deacon or Chloe. Their own workspace in DC looked very similar.

"I thought you guys were staying in DC," Adams asked as they cleared off the coffee table. Immediately it was filled back up with boxes containing dinner. Chloe had managed to get the Ringside Steakhouse, the best steak place in Portland, to deliver. A trick he wasn't sure he wanted to know how she pulled off. It was usually better not to ask how she managed to do these kinds of things. Plus, the young agent never really answered. "Not that we were surprised to see you."

"Deacon wanted in on the action," she muttered leaning back onto the couch. Between the long plane ride and Detective Griffin she was ready to call it a day. Right after she ate, of course. There was no way she planned to waste the best food she'd ever had, certainly not because of being tried.

"I did not..." the man in question denied earning him several incredulous looks. No one, not even Deacon, really bought that argument. "Okay, maybe I did. But you have to admit that sketch is too important for an email."

Taylor couldn't really disagree with his partner. Even if he wished the two had stayed in DC like they'd planned. "It's the only solid piece of evidence we have."

"Captain Renard wants to release it to the media," Chloe told the other agents while shaking her head. It was clear she didn't like the idea. Truth was none of them were fans of releasing the sketch. They all worried it might cause a panic among the citizens of Portland.

"Well, I'm not going to be the one to tell him 'no'," Taylor said knowing it wouldn't do any good. The Captain pretty much did what he wanted.

"I don't blame you," she said pausing to take a huge bite of her steak. It was perfect not that Chloe expected anything else. The Ringside Steakhouse was known for its amazing food. "He's kinda scary."

"Nah, he just likes knowing what's going on with his people," Adams pointed out sensibly to the group. The homicide captain was one of the few who had complete control of their department. It was actually nice to see, at least, in his opinion. "You can't really fault him for that."

"I think it's more than that," Deacon insisted causing Chloe to reach over and smack him with a folder. The two exchanged a look before he kicked her gently. Taylor glared at their actions causing Deacon to throw up his hands in defeat. "Okay fine I'm letting it go."

"You guys are so weird," Adams mumbled digging into his salad. Working with Chloe and Deacon was certainly eye opening. It reminded him of his own kids as teenagers, which occasionally made him think about retiring. The idea certainly had merit. Maybe. Once this case was over. "So, Chloe, how is it?"

She froze, fork halfway to her mouth, a comical deer in the headlights look on her face. "How is what," Chloe finally asked albeit hesitantly.

"Being back in Portland," her partner clarified. It was no secret that she had grown up in the area. Or that she hadn't really been back in years. Even though he knew Chloe was still close to her father. "Is it weird?"

"Not really. I mean it's not like things have changed that much."

"You go see your dad yet," Taylor asked thinking of his own kids at home. He couldn't imagine either one moving across the country. Hell, he didn't want to imagine them heading off to college at this point.

"Nah. I'm going to wait until this case is finished."

"Does he even know you're in town," Deacon asked almost certain he knew the answer. Chloe Landry was one of the most private people he'd ever met. He doubted she'd mix work and a family reunion. Especially, on such a high profile case.

"Probably," _Definitely. The man probably had a GPS chip planted on her somewhere. Being an only child sucked. _"I mean he's a worrier, so, I'd be surprised if he didn't."

Adams shook his head at the answer, "You need to at least call him, kid."

"What is this gang up on Chloe day," she jabbed at her salad as she looked around the room. "Fine! I'll call him. Happy now?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Despite being early in the morning it was already hot. This summer had broken heat records. He hated running in the heat and was looking forward to a break in the hot spell. Bending over to tie his shoes he took a moment to stretch. He might as well get on with his run before it got any hotter.

He took the slightly cooler but rougher mountain trails. On the lower trials he'd see many of the same people running at the same time. As he veered off to the higher trails he answered a 'Hi, Mark,' from a guy who worked in his building with a wave of his own.

Mark had been running for just over an hour when he stopped for a break. He wasn't a fan of having to stop mid-run but with the heat he wasn't willing to take any chances. It was better to take a break than collapse from heat stroke. Especially out on this trail. They weren't that well traveled and who knew if anyone would find him.

He took several gulps of water as he rested against one of the larger trees that lined the trail, before pouring some on his head. Today was definitely going to be a scorcher. He took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the woodlands.

The sun was letting light into the woods and giving it that glow you only get from the morning sun when the day is still new. His eyes snapped back to the left and he peered more intently deeper into the woodlands. He took a hesitant step off the trail to the edge of the trail that led down to a rocky ravine and more into the woods.

"Holy Hell!" He scrambled down to see if what he thought he was actually real.

Mark emptied what little breakfast he'd eaten into the bushes. He'd never seen a dead body before. And he had no doubt the battered person on the rocks below was in fact dead. Blindly, he pulled out his cell phone.

"911 what is the nature of your emergency?"

"I think... I'm on the Brier Trail in Mudson Creek Falls and I found a body."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Reporters had filled the small area just outside the Robbery Homicide Department. It seems that the sketch was a big deal to the media. Renard couldn't fault them for their reaction. After all, this was the first solid lead in the case.

He had, as procedure dictated, withheld the existence of a witness. The last thing Ashley James needed was to be hounded by the press. Not to mention the possibility of their suspect heading back to West Virginia. Renard was certain they had a better chance of catching him here in Portland.

"That's all I have for today. Thank you," he said ending the press conference. Renard waited until the press left to address his two detectives. "Any luck running the sketch through the data bases?"

"Nothing yet," Hank admitted reluctantly. Although to be honest no one expected their suspect to be in any Oregon database. "We started with DMV records in Virginia and West Virginia."

Renard nodded absent mindedly at the answer. The sketch was a start but what really need was a name. Apparently Hank and Nick had put a plan in motion. A fact that confirmed why they were two of his best detectives. "Were most of the bodies were found?"

"Yes, sir," Nick confirmed immediately. Once they got all the files from the FBI even he had been shocked by how many crimes their suspect had committed. He had to be in a system somewhere. No one was that lucky.

"Good. Hopefully we can get a name to go with the face."

"Well, all of Portland is going to get a good look at our killer. I doubt he's going to be able to hide for long."

"And there's been no more issues with the FBI," Renard asked pointedly. He hadn't gotten any calls about yesterday. But he fully expected one. While he could understand Hank's actions he couldn't defend them. What Renard did know was that it couldn't happen again. With the press hanging around the squad room hoping to learn something about the case, pushing and shoving cops was the last thing they needed.

Vultures. In a few case, literally.

That's why cooperation was never more important. Renard didn't want any negative publicity affecting his detectives.

"Nothing since our earlier... misunderstanding."

"It needs to stay that way," Renard warned quietly. "I can't stress enough how much another misunderstanding would damage the department."

"It won't happen again." Nick promised though it sort of felt like he was lying to the Captain. Realistically, there was no way he could make those promises. Hank and Deacon had already clashed once. And considering how slowly the case was progressing it was bound to happen again. "We'll make it work."

"That's exactly what I wanted to hear. Let me know if you get a hit on the sketch."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The crime scene was becoming almost typical. A sure sign that this had been going on far too long. Nick kicked a pebble ignoring the glares from the crime scene techs. Ever since the call came in he was restless. This scene for some reason felt different from the others.

Oh, Nick had no doubt it was the same guy. The coincidences were too great for it to be anyone else. But something about this scene felt off. He couldn't place what it was. Maybe his Grimm side was reacting to their suspect. Or even Special Agent Rogers.

Admittedly having another Wesen at the scene was distracting in its own way. Although Nick didn't think the agent had anything to do with this particular vibe. It was something or someone else. He couldn't quite place it and that knowledge was starting to annoy him.

Maybe this was one of those Grimm things he had no clue about. You know the kind of thing he should know but didn't learn until it nearly killed him. Of course, since he mostly had no idea what he was doing Nick figure that covered most Wesen related things.

Shaking his head Nick tried to refocus his attention on the crime scene.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"He's watching you," Deacon whispered softly not bothering to explain who the 'he' was. Detective Burkhardt had been staring at them on and off since arriving at the crime scene. It was enough to make most Wesen paranoid.

"And what exactly am I supposed to do about it," she asked while continuing to look for clues. Chloe knew she had to be careful where she stepped. After all you never knew what might turn out to be an important clue.

"I don't know," he admitted reluctantly. His default position concerning Grimm was usually to shoot them. Given the carnage most of them caused his superiors didn't question him too much. Nick Burkhardt appeared to defy all preconceived notions. "But from the look on his face, he's suspicious."

"Of course Detective Burkhardt is suspicious Deacon. He's a Grimm, you know."

Deacon scoffed at the statement. There was no way for him to forget that the detective was a Grimm. "Believe me I know. The good news is I don't wanna shoot this one."

"Well, that is very good news. You think he knows," she asked suddenly her voice barely above a whisper.

"I'd say be more specific but there's a lot Burkhardt doesn't know. He's operating under a serious handicap."

"Maybe that isn't a bad thing. Trained Grimms..." Chloe trailed off her green eyes meeting his brown ones, "they're like rabid dogs, Deacon. Most of them need to put down. Him," her eyes looked over at Nick, "not being prepared might not be a bad thing."

"Or it might be the thing that gets him killed."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The scene was nearly processed when Nick had that strange feeling again. There was a slight, almost unnoticeable, nagging in the back of his brain. It was as if he should be aware of something important. Something he should have recognized before. Trouble was Nick had no idea what it could be.

His gray eyes darted around the scene before landing back on the FBI agents. For some reason it kept coming back to them. Clearly, at least one of them was keeping secrets. The natural suspect was Deacon Rogers. The books hadn't said much about Katzetier. Well, not much more than how to kill them. Something he wasn't interested in. His ancestors weren't going to be much help.

That meant stopping by Monroe's after work. The Blutbad was Nick's best resource when it came to Wesen matters, particularly, if he wanted to be a different kind of Grimm.

A flicker of movement caught his eye. He couldn't even place what it was that drew his attention. But that flicker sent his mind on another tangent. What if the issue wasn't Agent Rogers but Agent Landry? They didn't know anything about the two younger agents. And Nick knew it wasn't impossible for her to be a Wesen. The idea was certainly worth looking into.

Hopefully, Monroe didn't have plans for tonight.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Monroe had been half expecting the knock all night. It had been several days since Nick stopped by and to be honest he was starting to worry. The baby Grimm had a habit of neatly getting himself almost killed. Usually on a daily basis.

"What do you know about Katzetier," Nick asked the moment Monroe opened the door.

He rolled his eyes at the question. Evidently, hoping for a 'hello' was too much. "Don't you have a whole trailer full of Grimm lore," Monroe grumbled letting the detective in.

"Uhhh, yeah?"

"And didn't I say I wasn't your Grimm-apida?"

"So, you don't know anything then," Nick asked somehow managing to look innocent and dangerous all at once. It was that look that made you want to help him Grimm or not.

"That depends," Monroe said leaning against the living room door jam. "Are you curious or is there a specific reason for your question?"

"One of the agents from DC is a Katzetier. I just wanna know what I'm deal with."

"Yeah, I can see that," Monroe nodded thoughtfully, "being FBI, I mean. They're good hunters. My guess is following leads isn't much different than hunting, you know, people."

"I didn't need to hear that," Nick mumbled shaking his head. He didn't want to think about having to put away an FBI agent. He seriously doubted the Captain would understand.

"But it's true, man," the Blutbad said making his way into the kitchen. This conversation was going to require something stronger than coffee. "Predators are what they are. You can't really change that," he continued his voice carrying halfway across the house.

"You did," he pointed out when Monroe emerged carrying two beers.

"Yeah, with a lot of hard work and discipline," Monroe reminded his friend none too gently. Most of the time he believed Nick had no idea how difficult curbing his instincts was. "But Katzetier are different, Nick. They're not... they tend to keep mostly to themselves. Cats... aren't pack creatures. For a lot of reasons," he took a swig of his beer, "They're, you know, solitary. Which, come to think of it, is probably a good thing."

Nick took a moment to process what the other man was saying. To be honest Monroe wasn't exactly easing his concerns about Agent Rogers. "Should I be worried about him hurting innocent people?"

"I haven't met the guy," Monroe said half surprised that Nick hadn't already suggested it, "but my guess is the job fills that instinct."


End file.
